


someone still loves you

by ninwrites



Series: Do I Dare Disturb The Universe? [17]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood-centric, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Detective Alec Lightwood, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Family Feels, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Maryse Lightwood Redemption, Mending Relationships, Supportive Magnus Bane, written for pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15096329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: A tale of love, hope, family and acceptance - written in honour of pride month





	someone still loves you

**Author's Note:**

> I'll keep the sappy note to the end - I sincerely hope you enjoy this. Happy reading ❤
> 
> \--
> 
> title from 'the overpass' by panic! at the disco

 

Alec never expected to fall in love.

 

His life was always planned out ahead of him, and he’d just accepted it; his father wanted him to become a defence attorney, his mother wanted him to do his best in school, and Alec didn’t know what he wanted, so he presumed it just didn’t matter.

 

He had a girlfriend in high school which was more a mutual cover-up than anything romantic, and got the best out of his first year of his college studies: the closet romances and weekend hookups were nothing more than tiny rebellions but they felt like something important, like each step of a walk of shame left tremors in the ground beneath him.

 

He’d switched after his first year of law school into the police academy, much to his father’s chagrin, but by that time all the divorce papers had been filed and Alec could care less about the opinion of a man who put his family behind his own personal desires.

 

There hadn’t been time for a relationship in the academy, but he dated on and off, had a fling with a recruit who had a nice smile and the hope of joining the navy, and it was - fine. Good.

 

The academy taught him that he wasn’t built for flings, he didn’t have a heart for one night stands; he had no taste for rebellion anymore, he yearned for a relationship where he could truly find himself.

 

He was a junior detective by the time he met Magnus Bane.

 

Magnus was, at the time, a teaching assistant at NYU, working on his doctoral on the strength of culture within colonial takeovers; their first meeting had been a scene out of a cliche rom-com, Alec tripping over his own feet only to spill his coffee on the front of Magnus’ very nice, very white, and very _tight_ button-down.

 

Alec had apologised profusely and tried his best not to stare, Magnus had waved him off, said something about it being an old shirt that he was planning on discarding anyway, and stared plenty back.

 

Alec had offered to buy Magnus lunch as compensation, and sparks had flown from the moment that Magnus had agreed.

 

Alec had only thought he’d been going on a date. He couldn’t of expected what would happen next.

 

* * *

 

There’s something about sliding _his_ _key_ into the lock of Magnus’ loft that never ceases to thrill Alec in the utmost domestic of ways.

 

They haven’t moved in, not properly, but they each have a key and there’s hardly a night which they spend apart. It’s exhilarating to be so caught up in another person - Alec is a close acquaintance with loneliness, but he isn’t much of a fan.

 

And with Magnus - he can still be himself, still be independent without sacrificing his relationship, or anything else for that matter.

 

He also really, really likes Magnus - probably more than just that - and he knows that he’s never felt happier.

 

It helps that when he walks into Magnus’ loft, it’s to find his boyfriend standing at his drinks cart, swinging his hips to a Beyoncé song, in his stupid red jeans that look as though they’re painted on and a black top which Alec knows from experience is patterned with sheer black lace on the front.

 

Alec takes a few seconds to compose himself, though he knows by now that such a thing is impossible when Magnus is around.

 

The man is just - magnetic. He’s had Alec hooked since the first second of their acquaintance, and where looks don’t hurt, they certainly fall short in the grand scope of all that Magnus is.

 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

 

Magnus practically spins on his heel, grin a mile wide. It’s intoxicating.

 

“Your presence could never be an interruption, Alexander,” Magnus steps closer, though Alec had already begun to close the distance. “Rather an incredibly welcome surprise.”

 

Alec shrugs, the corner of his mouth teasing upwards. “Well, my shift ended early - closed case and all that - so I thought I’d swing by, providing you’re not busy of course.”

 

Magnus shakes his head, although it’s charmingly fond. “Never too busy for you, Alexander. Besides, I’m a professor, the most you’re keeping me from is marking - it’s not a hard decision to make.”

 

Alec sidles closer, leaning into the hand that Magnus curls against his cheek. “You prioritise me above your students?”

 

“Above my student’s work”. Magnus clarifies. “Besides, it’s heavily encouraged that all work and no play makes for a very unsatisfied life.”

 

Alec brushes a kiss against the corner of Magnus’ mouth. “We wouldn’t want that, now.”

 

Magnus smirks into the half-kiss. “No, we really wouldn’t.”

 

Alec’s hands press against Magnus’ back, his head tilting to accommodate a better angle for the kiss as Magnus’ hands wind around Alec’s neck, fingers curling against the nape. Magnus kisses like he has all the time in the world, and can think of nothing better that he’d like to do with it. Alec’s never been on the end of quite so much directed attention before.

 

“I missed you,” he whispers, when they pull back.

 

 _I think I love you_ stays unspoken, but drifts in the air between them, catching on the edge of Magnus’ brilliant smile.

 

“I’m right here.” Magnus replies, because he’s not so secretly a huge dork.

 

Alec pokes his thumb at Magnus’ spine and leans back in, because Magnus is right, and he is there and it’s all that matters in this moment.

 

* * *

 

Alec thought it would scare him, when he fell in love for the first time - in real life, not a crush or a zip of attraction but _love_ , in all its messy, tender and bittersweet glory.

 

He comes from divorced parents, and grew up considering romantic love as a burden more than anything else; he understood family, but didn’t see the point in _falling_ in love, because he’d never seen proof it was worth it.

 

His sister Isabelle insists that he could never hold down a proper relationship because he didn’t think he was worth love, but Alec thinks she just cares too much.

 

He’s been dating Magnus for three and a half months, and he’s managed to _not_ self-sabotage the relationship - probably because he and Magnus had a conversation about their pasts by the fifth date and Alec discovered that despite his best intentions, Magnus hadn’t the best luck with relationships either.

 

They’re both a little cracked around the edges, both their hearts are tender and bruised but they’re careful with each other, and though Alec can’t speak for Magnus, he knows that being with Magnus is healing his own.

 

Magnus makes him feel special in a way that Alec had never felt before - never thought he’d be able to feel.

 

It’s - incomparable.

 

* * *

 

“You know I was never going to be a detective.”

 

Alec hooks his foot around Magnus’ ankle, leaning into the arm wrapped around his waist. Magnus raises a deliberate eyebrow, curiosity glittering in his eyes.

 

“What would I have called you, if you weren’t _Detective_ Lightwood?”

 

Alec swats at Magnus’ chest half-heartedly. “Alec works fine.”

 

Magnus wiggles his eyebrows cheesily, and Alec’s heart skips a beat, even as he rolls his eyes; Magnus is a bigger dork than he lets most people believe, and Alec is utterly charmed by it all.

 

“My dad wanted me to be a lawyer.” Alec traces random shapes against Magnus’ sternum. Magnus knows, about his father and the divorce and all the dark patches of Alec’s teenage years.

 

Magnus was orphaned by ten, left under the care of an abusive stepfather who he managed to escape from at sixteen by getting a scholarship at Dalton; he’d made his own path since there, and even just hearing about all he’d been through, all that he’d achieved, has Alec feeling secondhand pride.

 

It’s a luck to know Magnus Bane, and an honour to love him.

 

(Not that Alec has told him about that part.)

 

“He was a defence attorney,” Alec continues, heat warming his lower cheeks. “Wanted me to follow his path. Expected it, really.”

 

Magnus smiles, and there’s something like pride in his eyes. “You went against the grain.”

 

Alec shrugs, his shoulder bumping into Magnus’. “Not at first. It took a whole year of law school for me to realise that it wasn’t what I’d ever want for myself. Attending the police academy was a whim - even then, I didn’t think I’d be a detective. But Luke propositioned me, said he saw potential in me and … I didn’t want to say no.”

 

Magnus’ hand drifts up Alec’s back, between his shoulder blades and skittering down across his spine. Alec practically sags into the touch.

 

“No one had ever seen in me what Luke did.” Alec admits, quietly. He has a lot of respect for Luke, and a lot to be grateful to the man for; he’d become something of a pseudo-father figure, and truthfully proved more of a father than his own biological one ever had.

 

“The shame is on them, Alexander.” Magnus states, with the kind of conviction that has Alec’s foundations tremoring. “And every other foolish person who didn’t see your potential, or your quality of disposition. I’ve met many people, but very few even measure up to half of your character.”

 

Alec breathes in, shakily, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and on the exhale whispers: “I love you.”

 

He’s not sure what he expects, the words out before he can catch them, but it’s certainly not the tears that wind a silver track down Magnus’ cheeks. His mouth parts, and then closes again, but he’s smiling around the silence and Alec feels a swell of adoration so strong it makes his ribs ache in phantom.

 

“I love you, too.” Magnus whispers, his hand coming up to rest over Alec’s impressively steady heart. “God, do I love you too.”

 

It’s the best thing Alec has ever heard.

 

* * *

 

Alec wakes up to cooling sheets and the distinct smell of freshly brewed coffee, and though he misses the warmth that Magnus radiates, it’s not a bad way to start the day.

 

It’s even better when he pads out, barefoot and tugging on one of his old, faded navy NYPD shirts, to see Magnus at the stove, the shifting muscles of his back on full display.

“Good morning.” Alec says, voice deep and gruff with leftover sleep.

 

Magnus glances over his shoulder, smiling tenderly. “It is now.”

 

It’s a slow revelation, a soft blanket settling around his shoulders - this is the man he loves, the man who loves him in return.

 

It’s not a supernova or anything so dramatic. It’s gentle, and fitting, something that has always been there, now just out in the open.

 

Alec’s so happy he’s not sure how his cheeks haven’t cracked with the pressure.

 

“Is the lack of shirt deliberate, or just to save your robe from catching on fire?” Alec teases, sidling up beside the kitchen island.

 

“Well,” Magnus leans away from the stove, fresh pancake batter cooking on a low heat. “I do quite fancy my new robe.”

 

Alec quite fancies it too.

 

“And,” Magnus glances over his shoulder. “A good view never hurts.”

 

Alec hums, wrapping his arms around Magnus’ torso, fingers dancing across his abdomen. He presses a small kiss to the back of Magnus’ neck, and sighs in something that sounds a little like relief. “I love you.”

 

Magnus leans back into his touch, one hand curling around Alec’s. “I love you too.” His head rests against Alec’s, like a corner puzzle piece.

 

“But,” He adds after a moment, patting Alec’s hand. “This is an entirely unproductive position to be in for breakfast preparation.”

 

Alec kisses a line across Magnus’ shoulders before reluctantly pulling back. “I’ll set the table then. Fancy eating out on the balcony?”

 

Because Magnus, a college professor, somehow has a loft apartment; wonders truly never cease.

 

“Sounds lovely.”

 

Alec turns, intent on heading towards the cutlery drawer, when something flat bounces off the higher curve of his ass.

 

He whirls around, Magnus the epitome of devilish innocence behind him.

 

“Really?” Alec asks, heat burning the tips of his ears.

 

Magnus shrugs, the spatula twirling between his elegant fingers. “I had a question.”

 

Alec regrets asking even before the words are out. “A question?”

 

When asked, Alec will insist that he did not blush, he did not choke out a near-strangled laugh, and he certainly did not press Magnus into the breakfast bench to kiss him until they were both breathless.

 

In reality, Magnus smirked: “what’s cookin’, good-lookin’?”

 

A lone and unfortunate pancake was lost in collateral, but neither of them are too upset.

 

* * *

 

Alec is only five minutes late to work, which is in itself quite the miracle; he and Magnus hadn’t left the loft all weekend, and it was beginning to show.

 

Not because they’d done anything more nefarious than a fight with brownie mixture, but because they’d been so wrapped up in each other and the bubble of newly admitted love that the little things - like shaving - had skipped Alec’s mind.

 

Until he gets to the precinct, that is, and Luke spends a good three minutes just assessing him.

 

“Scruffy but neat.” Luke mumbles, hands perched on his hips. “You’d look far worse if you weren’t with Magnus anymore, but you’ve got this glow about you-“

 

“We didn’t spontaneously get married, or anything like that.” Alec promises, a little struck by the idea that he’s glowing, although the thought sparks a little inside of his heart. “Just, reached an important milestone in our relationship. Really, it’s nothing at all.”

 

Alec wants to head back to his desk, check the unsolved cases in their pile, but he knows that if he doesn’t get the interrogation over now, he’ll have to suffer it later - and he doesn’t really want to have to stifle his _“glow”_.

 

Luke rounds his desk, clasping a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “I’m very happy for you, Alec, and Magnus too. I wish you both the best, but I also trust that this development won’t affect your work ethic.”

 

Alec shakes his head. “It absolutely won’t. I promise, sir.”

 

Luke smiles, as though he’s humouring Alec, and pulls back. “I know. You are one of my best detectives for a reason.”

 

“Not _the_ best?” Alec heaves a put-upon sigh. “Guess I better get to work and fix that.”

 

“That’s a good step.” Luke calls, as Alec backtracks towards the door of the office.

 

Alec knows he wouldn’t love his job as much as he does if Luke wasn’t his captain; Luke doesn’t treat the precinct like a chore, nor his detectives. Luke treats his detectives as though they’re all his family, his pack, his people. It creates a productive work environment, sure, but it also makes the precinct feel like a second home.

 

Alec hasn’t had the best luck with homes, but he’s found one with Luke and his fellow detectives, and he’s hoping to build his own with Magnus.

 

(It’s the kind of thought that saves him from banging his head into his desk when one of his accused vocally and furiously protests his innocence for the entire bullpen to hear.)

 

* * *

 

Magnus has a faculty meeting, so Alec lets himself in to the loft - with his _key_ \- because Magnus’ apartment is nicer than the closet that Alec’s paycheck affords, and he always feels better as soon as he’s through the dark ornate doors.

 

He locks his gun in Magnus’ safe, the standard police issue weapon totalitarian next to Magnus’ family heirlooms - what few he’d been able to snatch with him - and his more treasured possessions, those that had come from measures of strength or friendship. It’s a strange comparison between, but part of Alec likes it, because it’s him and Magnus in a most simplistic design.

 

Alec, the cop, the detective, the protector, a turn of last resort for people who have run out of options. And Magnus, the worldly and learned, beautiful and equally rough around the edges, worn with time but shining no less.

 

Perhaps Alec is thinking too much into it, he tends to do that about things - and people - that are important to him.

 

Truthfully, he’s been thinking about Magnus a lot, about the two of them. It’s not even been a week, but Alec knows that his feelings have been growing for a long time before, knows that saying it aloud was just a matter of bringing them to the surface, something to be shared, not drowned under.

 

He suspects it had been a similar matter for Magnus, and it’s because of that, for all that Magnus means to him, all Magnus has given him and all that Magnus deserves, that Alec has been thinking about.

 

Magnus deserves the world. Alec might not be able to give him all of that, but he can do his best, in his own little circle of the universe.

 

* * *

 

“Something smells good,” Magnus says, upon entering the apartment. “I’m guessing you ordered takeout?”

 

Alec huffs, pulling the plastic-lidded bowls out of a bag. “I _can_ cook, you know? I make fantastic omelettes. And French toast.”

 

“Of course.” Magnus shrugs his blazer off, hanging it across the back of a dining chair. “You’ve got the monopoly on breakfast foods. But the last time you tried to cook dinner you almost burnt my kitchen down.”

 

“It was _meant_ to be romantic,” Alec grumbles, pulling cutlery from the drawers, because not _everyone_ can have the same dexterity with chopsticks as Magnus.

 

“It was very romantic,” Magnus confirms, a teasing note to his voice. “Especially when you took off your shirt to fan the flames even though there was a dish towel on the bench. That was a definite highlight. 10/10 would repeat again.”

 

Alec rolls his eyes, and slides Magnus’ char kway teow over. “Of course you would, it’s not like you ruined one of your favourite shirts to save your boyfriend’s apartment because you love him and hadn’t quite gotten around to telling him that yet.”

 

Magnus eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. “That was almost a month ago.”

 

Alec swallows, turning his attention towards his own black bean noodles. “Almost, yeah.”

 

“Oh, Alexander.”

 

Alec isn’t one to stomach pity, but that’s not how Magnus sounds; sympathetic, and tender, but in no way pitying.

 

“I knew how I felt, but I wasn’t sure if it was the same for you,” Alec says, quietly, finding immense interest in the polished silver cutlery. “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

 

Magnus reaches over, his hand resting above Alec’s on the island bench. “Alec. My love. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Alec hadn’t quite realised how accustomed they’d both been to abandonment, to being loved and left behind - though their circumstances varied, the effects echoed after for them both.

 

Magnus has made his own family, and Alec hasn’t spoken to his father, excluding the tense birthday email and the short Christmas texts, in two years - both of them have reason to be cautious and closed-off.

 

Yet, they’ve found each other. Despite all the odds, they’ve found love.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I think I want to tell my mom - about us.”

 

Alec is grateful that he’d had the peace of mind to wait until they’d both finished dinner before posing what he’d been fruitlessly mulling over.

 

It’s a big deal, he knows, and he’s been wracking his brain for days now, but - he wants this. He’s terrified, of course, but if he’s sure of anything, it’s that he loves Magnus more than he’s ever loved anyone, and that’s reason enough, but-

 

He loves his mom - for all her human flaws, she always tried, always gave him what he said he wanted; he can’t blame her, for her waylaid focus during the divorce, can’t blame her with foresight on his side, for not being there the way he needed her.

 

He’d always been an independent child, always stepped up to look after his younger siblings, always took initiative before being asked. He’d gotten so good at pretending he could do it all on his own that he convinced everyone, his mother - and himself - included, that he didn’t need anybody else.

 

It had only lasted until he’d met Magnus, before he not only realised that he couldn’t do it all himself, but more importantly, he didn’t _have_ to. It’s okay to lean on others for support, he doesn’t have to try and balance the weight of the world on his shoulders, it’s not just his to bear.

 

Alec can’t predict the future, he has no idea if his mom will even want to talk to him, she might be too busy - she could also be a hidden homophobe. He has no idea.

 

But he has to try. He _wants_ to try.

 

“Your mom?” Magnus echoes, glancing at Alec from above his porcelain tea cup. They’d been enjoying dessert, before Alec spoke up that is. “The same mother who doesn’t know that you’re gay?”

 

Alec nods, palms warmed by his coffee, a contrast to the ice forming against his spine. “We’ve always had a sort of … tense relationship, but this is an important part of who I am - and you’re important to me. It feels right.”

 

Magnus pauses, rings clinking against his porcelain cup when he puts it down. “I’ll support you, always.” He says, turning to Alec. “Whatever you decide, I trust is what you know is best for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Alec whispers, unable to speak higher.

 

It’s not something he’s all that used to, this sort of - unwavering, unquestioning support. He puts down his cup, palms already cooling with the absence, but he needs something for his hands to do, something that he doesn’t have to worry about breaking.

 

“I’m assuming you wouldn’t want me to come with, seeing as this is the first time you’re bringing it up with her.” Magnus doesn’t say it with malice or ill intent - he sounds rather accommodating of it all.

 

“I’m going to tell her about you,” Alec assures. “You’re a big encouragement but when you meet her, I just - want it to be something worth celebrating. A moment of its own.”

 

Magnus reaches over, curling his hand around Alec’s wrist, hands sliding down to tangle with Alec’s, rings against knuckles. “I would love that. Truly, she sounds like quite a remarkable woman, and must be quite the delight if she brought up a wonderful man such as yourself.”

 

“You wouldn’t say the same about my father.”

 

Magnus shrugs, lifting Alec’s hand to press a kiss to the back, lashes dark against his cheeks. “A father’s sins are not his son’s to bear. You are not your father, nor am I mine. But I am honoured to be my mother’s son, and I have a feeling that part of you is too.”

 

Alec squeezes Magnus’ hand, and whispers: “I suppose only time will tell us that.”

 

* * *

 

It’s paperwork day, which bothers Alec less than it does most other detectives.

 

He didn’t get into this field of work for the thrill, the adrenaline, nor even the ranking - he wants to _help_ people, as best he can, and the paperwork is part of that. He gets as much pride out of filing his cases as he does solidifying an arrest, because it’s part of the process, to guarantee that justice is served as it is due to. He’s careful, and particular, and never sloppy.

 

However, he can’t deny that paperwork can be tedious at best, if not completely mind-numbing; so when Luke sweeps by his desk and calls for Alec to join him in his office, it’s hardly an effort to comply.

 

“Captain,” Alec closes the door to Luke’s office gingerly behind him. “You wanted to speak to me?”

 

Luke rests behind his desk, though it seems too dark and foreboding for his gentle nature. His hands are clasped before him, but there’s a warmth to his mouth, his smile reflected in his eyes.

 

“Just wanted to check in. Please, have a seat.”

 

Luke gestures broadly and Alec thinks of the first time he’d insisted that Alec drop the ‘Captain Garroway’ formalities in general conversation. Alec prefers to use it when necessary, but appreciates that _Luke_ trusts him enough with this level of personal referencing.

 

“Is this about the long weekend I requested to have off?” Alec asks, thinking of the trip to Atlantic City that Magnus had suggested once the semester hit its break.

 

Luke shakes his head, his smile slight but still present. “Your arrest rate is on a steady incline from last quarter, and your paperwork is beyond impeccable - you’ve more than earned a vacation. I just wanted to see how you’re doing…”

 

Alec blinks, affronted. “Me? I’m … I’m fine, sir.”

 

Luke’s expression barely changes, but somehow it makes Alec feel startlingly transparent, like he’s made of bright cellophane. “Alec. I’m not just your captain, okay, you don’t have to feign reservation - if you have something on your mind, I’m here to listen. I can’t say my advice will be what you need, but you can have that too if it helps.”

 

It’s something between a joke and an offer that feels too big for Alec to take - but then, he hasn’t been able to stop mulling over how he’s supposed to come out to his mother, and he doesn’t want to bring it up with Magnus, because it doesn’t seem fair.

 

This is up to him. Magnus knows that Alec doesn’t see him as a dirty little secret, or anything of that nature, but he also respects that this is something Alec _needs_ to do.

 

It would only worry Magnus to know how lost Alec feels. But Luke? He has no stake in this, and his mind is undoubtedly clearer than Alec’s — and besides, though Alec hesitates to admit it, he’s become something of a mentor since Alec joined the precinct.

 

He trusts Luke, with his life. This is hardly that dramatic.

 

“I’m considering - hoping, really - to come out to my mother. I haven’t spoken to her beyond a few cursory pleasantries in months, and I haven’t seen her since Christmas.”

 

Luke’s eyes widen slightly, but he’s polite enough to remain quiet.

 

“It’s not something that had ever come up, before - my teenage years were preoccupied with divorce and getting into the right school, and the whole Talk™️ business never came around. She doesn’t even know about Magnus…”

 

Luke steeples his hands beneath his chin. “Is he why you’re doing this?”

 

Alec shrugs. “A little? I think he’s just … the encouragement I needed. He never asked me too, he’s always been supportive of the fact that I wasn’t ready but - I am, now. I know I am. I _want_ to tell her, I don’t want to hide that part of me. I want to have a proper, open relationship with her. But I can’t do that with this secret hanging over me.”

 

Luke nods, eyes folding closed for a brief second. They’re sharp when he fixes them back on Alec, determination and something nicer lighting them up. “Do you think she might react, badly?”

 

Alec swallows tightly. “I hope not. She’s never seemed the homophobic type, never spoke the way my father did, but then, she never spoke against him either. Is silence only complacency or just as discriminatory?”

 

Luke let’s out a slow breath, and Alec feels his lungs sigh in empathy. “That’s a question I ask myself daily. I’m not sure anybody has the true answer - I believe that intention accounts for a lot of a person’s actions, but by no means does it excuse them.”

 

Luke leans forward, his dark eyes fixed on Alec’s. “I’m not sure you’ll find the answers you want unless you ask them directly.”

 

Alec’s shoulders curve forward, his spine creaking as though preempting the heavier weight it will soon come to weather. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

 

Luke huffs a careful laugh, leaning back in his chair. “It’s often the case, that what you put off is only what inevitably must be done. Though I can’t say I mind that I’m right. Again.”

 

“Must come with age,” Alec teases, adding on: “In terms of experience, of course.”

 

Luke looks torn between rolling his eyes and grinning, his expression falling somewhere in the middle. “At the end of the day, you’ll walk away with answers. They might not be the ones you want, but at least you’ll have them. And no matter what, you have people who care about you, who love and support you regardless. Family isn’t always those you’re born into; family is something you choose.”

 

Alec knows that Luke is part of that. Family.

 

* * *

 

Alec calls his mom a few days later, once he can look at her contact and not feel like he’s going to faint.

 

Maryse picks up after the fourth ring; Alec imagines her staring at his contact, wondering what could have him calling after eight months with minimal contact.

 

“Alec?”

 

Alec swallows past the lump in his throat, and leans back against the rough brick wall behind him. He’d taken to the fire entrance to make the call, where it would be quiet and undisturbed.

 

“Hi, Mom.”

 

There’s rustling, a faint voice in the background, and then eerie silence. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

 

Alec tilts his head back, barely noticing the discomfort. “Everything’s - fine, I’m fine, I just, haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

 

Maryse clears her throat, but doesn’t speak. Alec wonders if the awkwardness is a given, or an impending sign of how any conversation he hopes to have with his mother will inevitably transpire.

 

“It has been, quite a while.”

 

Alec pinches the bridge of his nose and purses his lips. “I was wondering … if you’re not busy on Thursday, that is - if you’d like to get coffee?”

 

Alec’s throat burns, acidic and stark. The silence on the other end is suffocating, and his heart is pounding through his chest so strong he wouldn’t be surprised if he goes into cardiac arrest. He’d considered the idea that his mother might say no, of course he had, it was all that had kept him from sleep the night before, but part of him still hoped-

 

“I’d love that.” Maryse‘s voice is quiet, hesitant, but Alec hears every syllable, clear as crystal glass. “It would be - nice. To catch up with you.”

 

 _I miss you too, mom_ , Alec thinks. Aloud, he says “Thursday, then. At that little cafe ran by Ms Martinelli?”

 

There’s something of a smile to Maryse’ tone, though Alec knows it could be nothing more than wishful thinking on his part. “I know the place. Does eleven am work for you?”

 

Alec had already taken the day off, at Luke’s highly encouraged suggestion. “It works perfectly. I’ll see you there.”

 

Maryse says goodbye, and it’s only once Alec has hung up the he realises neither of them said ‘I love you’ — it’s not the biggest deal, but it does stand out.

 

 _Baby steps_ , he thinks. _It doesn’t matter how fast we get there - just that we_ do _._

 

* * *

 

Alec is pacing outside Martinelli’s by 10:30 am on Thursday - he’d been awake since six, not wishing to disturb Magnus’ sleep by his own tossing and turning.

 

He’d spent an hour agonising over what to wear - there’s not exactly protocol for catching up with someone you still love, but have a borderline estranged relationship with. He’s not even sure how to act, what to say - though he knows what he _wants_ to say - but at least he’s comfortable, in his shaped grey jeans and maroon henley.

 

(Magnus had encouraged him to wear his leather jacket, then had pulled him in by the front, told him that he looked gorgeous and wished him luck with a reassuring kiss. Alec hadn’t quite ever felt that kind of warming support before.)

 

Alec slips into the cafe at quarter to, waving hello to Angie, the owner, with a shy smile and a hurricane behind his ribs.

 

“Alec,” Angie winks, beckoning him over with a quick hand, her nails glinting a bright red. “Fancy seeing you in this ol’ part of town.”

 

Alec has a lot of love for Angie - she opened the cafe with her wife, Margaret, back in the nineties as a second business after their diner became popular. Alec found it back in his college days, and hasn’t looked back since.

 

Angie looks like she could have been pulled straight from a 50’s catalogue, her hair a caramel brown streaked with silver and curled, pinned back from her face. Her makeup is neutral, her lipstick as bright as her nails, but it’s her effervescent personality that has people returning time and time again.  

 

(It helps, that it’s a subtly lgbt+ friendly establishment run by two women who’d been together for almost half a century. And that Angie and Margaret make their patrons feel like family.)

 

“Couldn’t miss out on the best coffee this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.” Alec jokes, though even he can tell it falls short.

 

Angie leans over the bench, so close that Alec can see the laughter lines near her eyes and the creases of her smile. “Alec. Darlin’. We’ve been acquainted too long now for you to think you can lie to me. What really brings you here? The coffee is good but it’s not made of gold, sugar.”

 

Alec knows it’s the best coffee for the best price in Brooklyn - just as Angie knows he’s here for a grander purpose.

 

“I’m meeting with my mother, today.” Alec admits, the words coming out in a heavy exhale. “To talk about - us, and me … and Magnus.”

 

Angie’s light up at the mention of Magnus’ name - not that Alec can blame her. Magnus has that kind of effect on most people, he’s by no means an exception to that.

 

“Alec, that’s wonderful!” Angie reaches over the counter, pinching Alec’s cheek fondly. “I won’t keep you any longer, this is an important step for you, and for your mother I’m sure. It’s not easy, being a mom, but we try. Here, you go sit and I’ll bring over some drinks for you both.”

 

Alec nods, then requests: “Just water, to start with please, Angie,” because he realises that he doesn’t even know what his mother likes, if she takes milk or sugar or syrup, nor even if she likes coffee anymore.

 

He remembers her cradling a mug at the breakfast bar as a kid, remembers the click of her heels on the tiled kitchen floor as she rushed around getting ready for the day, but he can’t remember if the mug had a tea bag or not.

 

Guilt tastes a lot like he imagines battery acid would.

 

Alec takes a seat off to the side, near a wide ornate window; when he and Magnus come here, they take a booth seat off near the corner, but Alec wants a seat more open this time around.

 

Habit from childhood, he thinks; always assure an escape plan, a safe exit, in case things go south. It’s probably a little doomsday, but he doesn’t want to take chances.

 

He has hope - he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. But hope isn’t a safety net, not for this, not for him.

 

Whatever happens - by the end of it all, he’ll at least have answers.

 

* * *

 

Alec gets so accustomed to startling at each ring of the bell above the door, that he barely jumps when the sound of clicking heels comes his way: the soft exhale of his name, however, is not something he’s heard every other time.

 

It’s not something he’s heard for months, truthfully.

 

Alec winces at the scrape of the chair as he pushes it back, but then he’s face-to-face with his mother, and suddenly the chair is inconsequential.

 

“Mom.” Alec whispers, feeling like he’s thirteen again.

 

“Alec.” Maryse replies, her voice cracking on the edge of his name.

 

Alec wants to hug her, wants to see if she still smells like lavender and rose, if her hugs are still as hesitantly warm, but it doesn’t feel like the time.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” He says, instead, because he is. There’d been a significant part of him that was sure she wouldn’t come.

 

But she did. She’s _here_.

 

Maryse smiles, the lines at the corners strained tight. “I am too.”

 

“Please,” Alec gestures at the other side of the table, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He can’t form anymore words, but Maryse nods regardless, settling in opposite Alec’s seat. Alec inhales deeply, summoning strength he isn’t sure that he has.

 

“You’re looking good,” Maryse says, hands clasped in front of her. “Did you cut your hair?”

 

Alec scrubs the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Uh, yeah.” It had gotten to an unmanageable point; Alec had got the back and sides shaved down slightly, at Magnus’ assuring suggestion.

 

The corner of Maryse’s smile relaxes. “It looks good. Suits you.”

 

The highs of Alec’s cheeks burn, but he knows Maryse is being authentic, and if he doesn’t blush he’s certainly going to cry. “Thanks, it’s uh - it’s a lot easier to tame these days.”

 

Maryse nods, glancing down at her hands. “I can imagine.”

 

Alec takes a moment to sip at his water glass, the condensation of the glass sticky against his palm. “Would you like a drink? They make excellent coffee here.”

 

Maryse considers his suggestion, her lips pursing slightly. “I think I’ll stick to the water, for now, but thank you.”

 

Alec glances off to the side, where Angie is filling a customer’s mug; she looks up, after a moment, giving him a thumbs up with her free hand, and it’s subtle, but it helps.

 

“How have you been, Mom?” He asks, relieved and a little surprised at how easily the question slips out.

 

Maryse seems a little surprised as well, but she covers it well, clearing her throat before replying: “I’ve been well. Very well. I’m actually pursuing a new career, one far less callous.”

 

“Oh.” Alec thought his mother had become an attorney for the challenge, he always presumed that her motives were cleaner than his father’s, but he never considered ... there’s a lot, he doesn’t know about his mother, and even more than he never did.

 

It shouldn’t be any measure of comfort, but it is, because Alec feels as though the ground they’re on is somewhat more level.

 

“I’m working with women pursuing settlement from their former partners - there’s a discrepancy between what women should be paid in a divorce, and how many are convinced to take less than they’re worth. I fought your father for what I was due, and it-”

 

Maryse pauses, her windswept speech falling quiet.

 

Alec’s breath sticks in his throat but he reaches over the table despite it, covering his hand atop his mother’s. “I knew more than you probably intended me too. Izzy, too. We know what Dad did, all of it.”

 

Maryse blinks, and her eyes are glistening and Alec prays that he doesn’t start crying too, not in Angie’s sweet cafe, not before he’s gotten out all he wants to say first.

 

“I think it’s really amazing what you’re doing, helping people who’ve been in similar situations.” He continues, clearing his throat. “I’m really happy for you.”

 

Maryse squeezes Alec’s hand and smiles gently. “Thank you, Alec. But enough about me,” They both pull their hands back with only minor stumbling, and Alec feels the hurricane sweep back in, twisting around his organs. “What’s new with you?”

 

Alec rubs his thumb in the curve of his palm. “Work is good,” He says, static warming the creases beneath his thumb. “I’m, uh - I’m in a relationship.”

 

Maryse’s eyes widen slightly, but her smile is genuine. “Alec, that’s wonderful!”

 

“Yeah,” Alec smiles, and holds onto that fleeting hope when he adds: “His name is Magnus.”

 

* * *

 

Alec is expecting some shattering revelation, for the colour to drain from his mother’s face, for a glass to fall from the table and crash against the ground with the kind of slow dramatic effect only found in cinematic cliches.

 

He’s not expecting the lines creasing the edges of his mother’s smile to ease into something _real_.

 

“I’m afraid I’m a little confused, Alec.” There’s a teasing glint in Maryse’s eyes that helps somewhat to loosen the band around Alec’s lungs. “Are you expecting a harsher reaction? I truly am very happy for you.”

 

Alec frowns, thinking back to being thirteen, and shaking to his very bone when Isabelle told him that she knew, and she still loved him regardless; to being sixteen, and feeling heartbreak for the first time, feeling alone in it; to a few months prior, when he’d kissed Magnus for the first time outside of Magnus’ apartment, and finally felt the _zing_ he’d been told about all his life.

 

He takes in his mother’s warm smile, the light in her eyes and the way her shoulders have loosened, as though whatever tension she’d been gripping onto has simply fallen away.

 

A second later, it clicks.

 

“You knew,” Alec whispers to himself, before glancing up sharply at his mother. “You _knew_.”

 

Maryse’s hand curls into itself. “Alec. I’ve always known.”

 

Alec reaches for his water, his throat drier than sandpaper. His mother knows - his mother, apparently, has _always_ known he was gay. All the years he spent worrying about her reaction - all the anxiety, it was all null-and-void, all of it, because she already _knows_.

 

“How-” Alec scrunches his nose, forehead creasing. “How did you, figure it out? I was always too - too scared to tell you.”

 

He feels bad for that, now, when he chances a quick glance at his mother’s torn expression.

 

“You were … twelve, I think.” Maryse pauses in thought. “Maybe thirteen. It was a blurry year, I had just found out that your father was having an affair and I couldn’t stand the idea of you and your siblings learning of it.”

 

Maryse exhales with all the tension of someone put through more than they deserve, but it’s not pitying; she rolls her shoulders back and fixes Alec with a look somewhere between apologetic and hopeful.

 

“I did not give you the attention you needed, and I know that - you were always such an independent child … I’m afraid that in trying not to smother you, I only ended up ignoring you.”

 

Alec shakes his head, but doesn’t interrupt. He truly believes that he wouldn’t be half of the person he is now without all that he’d been through, but it’s not easy to be reminded of some of the darkest years of his life. His teenage years were hell - it’s only recently that Alec can admit to himself that he’s finally, truly happy.

 

“But then,” The hint of a smile toys at the corner of Maryse’ mouth, as though she’s lost in thought. “You came home from school one day, and you - you were glowing, Alec. You were smiling like crazy, you hardly flinched when your father missed dinner, and you could only blush when Isabelle poked at your cheeks.”

 

Alec can’t remember coming home from school and ever feeling that happy.

 

Maryse tucks a stray hair behind her hair - it reminds Alec, distantly, that he’s never seen her hair down before.

 

“A few days later, you told me that you had a science project, with a boy called James. You asked if he could come over, so that you could work on it together, and I agreed rather flippantly. It wasn’t until James _did_ come over, that it hit me.”

 

Maryse laughs, softly. Alec’s heart aches.

 

“James was sweet, and polite, I remember that - but mostly, I just remember the way you looked at him, like he’d personally hung the moon in the sky each night. It was endearing, of course, but it really struck me then. I tried to give you distance from that moment, to figure yourself out, but then you were graduating and moving out and things were always too tense - I didn’t want to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think that I _thought_ it was a big deal.”

 

Alec shrugs, distractedly, his emotions like a livewire. “It can be, but it doesn’t have to be. I don’t think my being gay defines me, but it is an important part of who I am. I’m-” Alec blinks back tears. “I’m sorry I never brought it up.”

 

Maryse shakes her head, hand fluttering out to reach for his. “No, Alec, no - you have nothing to be apologetic for. There’s always been miscommunication between us, and I blame myself for that, but I never expected you to tell me. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I always knew that you’d tell me when you were ready.”

 

“Mom,” Alec’s heart beats faster than his brain can keep up. “I’m closer to being thirty than I am thirteen, it seems a little past ready.”

 

Maryse’s answering smile, is that of a mother. “I never placed a timeline on it. I trusted that you would tell me once you were ready, and I’m glad that you are, now.”

 

“I’ve never - I’ve never been this comfortable with myself, before. Or happy. I wanted to tell you for a while now, but, I was under the impression that you didn’t … know, already.”

 

Maryse squeezes Alec’s hand. “Even if I didn’t,” She whispers, conspiratorially. “It wouldn’t have taken me long. You seem lighter, these days, happier - and your eyes light up just the same when you mention Magnus - as though he’s hung the moon _and_ every star in your sky. I accepted you at thirteen, Alec, and I accept you now. because you’re _my son_ , and all that matters to me is that you’re happy.”

 

“I am.” Alec grins, unable to help himself. “I am, really happy.”

 

“Love is good for you, Alec.” Maryse whispers.

 

Alec can’t think of anything to say in response, so he just stands up, grateful that his mom stands with him, and lets himself be wrapped in a hug.

 

He can’t remember the last time he hugged his mom, can’t remember feeling so safe within her arms. Maryse’s hand strokes the back of his head, his hands locked around her back and he can’t stop the tears from cascading, because a part of him truly never thought he’d get this chance.

 

His mom loves him, of course, he knows that, but she loves him for all that he is, she knows that he’s gay and she has always accepted him - it’s all a little too much, but in the most beautiful way.

 

“I’d like you to meet him,” Alec whispers against his mother’s ponytail. “Magnus.”

 

Maryse sniffles, thumb brushing the nape of Alec’s neck. “I’d love to.”

 

Over Maryse’s shoulder, Alec watches Angie subtly wipe away a tear. Her gaze locks with Alec, and she grins at him wider than she ever has before. _‘I’m proud of you’_ she mouths.

 

 _I’m proud of me, too_. Alec thinks. It’s a wonderful feeling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (I won't lie - I cried too.)
> 
> my darling friend [yara](https://mobile.twitter.com/meowbanes) wrote a tweet about alec coming out to maryse, and maryse assuring him that she's always known, and that she has always accepted him; it really struck a chord inside me, and as a result, this entire fic happened. 
> 
> i have a lot to thank yara for - outside of being one of my best friends, her support when writing this fic ensured it happened at all. early on, she told me that she trusts me to do this idea justice, and I had no idea at the time how important that would come to be. this fic is incredibly close to my heart, and having her faith behind me really meant a lot. 
> 
> and [mary](https://mobile.twitter.com/artistmow), my force sister, who helped with the slightest details (and the spatula quip) and told me, when I needed to hear it most, that she was proud of me. I would be lost without her. 
> 
> and to everyone who's helped in the creation of this fic - thank you. I haven't posted in almost two months, and haven't completed a fic in one. the fact that this one is so personal, and is written for one of my favourite times of the year, means a lot --- as does your support. 
> 
> I've been told by my friends that I seem very confident online, but the truth is I still struggle with aspects of my sexuality, in ways that I'm sure most lgbt people do. It was an honour to write this fic, and explore a situation not foreign to the community. 
> 
> the world still has a long way to go, but I am proud to be who I am, and I am proud to be a part of this community. Happy Pride Month ❤
> 
> \---
> 
> links - for those interested:
> 
> twitter: [ninwrites](https://mobile.twitter.com/ninwrites) for fic stuff/updates/snippets + [biconicbarnes](https://mobile.twitter.com/biconicbarnes) for general fandom mess + small threads  
>   
> tumblr: [here](https://ninwrites.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> (and while you're there check out the [shfanficnexus](https://shfanficnexus.tumblr.com/), a collection of work by wonderfully talented and lovely writers <3 )  
> thank you for reading!
> 
> \- Nin ❤


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